interpretations of love
by solicitors
Summary: she told him she loved him before she ever called him her boyfriend / the abc's of lucas and maya — lucas/maya
1. Z-N

**okay, this idea was originally an A &A story which turned into a GMW story which turned into the most wonderful time of the year (just a snippet) so i decided to turn this actually into something jesus christ..**

 **PS: set in college!**

* * *

 ** _z_ est; n  
** _great enthusiasm and energy_

She _dragged_ him to some Twilight concert (some band?!) down at the Bay. She _promised_ it will be worth his money and that, no, he won't regret it. And, _yes_ , it is perfectly necessary to drive ninety miles per hour on the seventy mile per hour freeway zone because it is _worth it_.

According to her, it's an underground band. You have to get a recommendation to even get an invitation to get an invitation to a party where they tell you the actual concert is at. (It has to be some conspiracy theory, he thinks.) The whole mumbo jumbo is complicated, but he doesn't even dare to ask. (She somehow got in, from a recommendation from a friend.)

It's in a garage he wouldn't look twice at but once you open the doors the noise comes blasting through and he nearly thinks he's deaf. (Oh, come on! she would beckon... He's weak, okay?) She then would grab his hand and, as said before, drag him into the pit of sweaty, BO reeking teenagers.

The concert hasn't started yet, apparently. She just wanted to see the opening acts early. (This music is cleansing to the soul, she states.) Once the band Twilight finally manages to make it onto the stage, the crowd erupts into cheers and he thinks he's gone deaf twice.

He asks her a question over the incoherent screams, but he doesn't think she can hear him because soon she's jumping up and down to the beat of the indistinguishable music. Her body is swaying and her hips are going to some _beat_ he can't seem to separate from all the other noise, but it doesn't seem to matter.

The music is starting to drown out of his ears, either from pure going deaf (you'll get used it, she promises) or from all of his attention being drawn to her. Everyone has the same amount of enthusiasm as her, sure. But there's no other sight like her. The pure _zest_ and happiness radiating off of her makes his heart pound like a drum against his chest. Which is appropriate, he thinks, due to the heavy drums and loud guitar sounds during said concert.

"Enjoy it," he thinks he hears from her. So he does. He enjoys the sight of her drowning her soul into apparently meaningful words and heavy pounding of the drums. He definitely enjoys the sight.

(And he thinks he's in love.)

 _ **y**_ **earn; v  
** _have an intense feeling of longing for something, typically something that one has lost or been separated from_

She's going to Chicago for something or the other (to visit her father, god forbid) for a couple of days. He knows that this experience will be good for her, to finally confront and meet the man that had abandoned her oh so many years ago. (He's taking a course in Psychology, okay?) But he's just plain selfish, he thinks, because he doesn't want her to go without him.

"Psychology is a soft science," she would state while stuffing another one of her band shirts in her already overflowing suitcase. "I honestly don't even know why you're taking that course when you know that Anthropology is where it's at." (She's been watching a little too much Bones, he thinks.)

He chuckles and throws her deodorant at her, she might've forgotten it if he didn't. "I'm only taking that course because I have free time. Besides, I'll be able to tell when you're lying to me, which could be a plus."

She rolled her eyes and threw the deodorant back at his face, promising that she already packed herself deodorant—and he said that she'll probably lose it, so...

"Soft science!" she reprehended him for the umpteenth time that day. When she had finally managed to fit her last pair of pajamas in her bulging suitcase, she took a moment to look at her watch (something that Lucas got her because it's so _annoying_ when she asks for the time, over and over and over again...) to see when Riley and Farkle would come over to bid their goodbyes.

He dragged her suitcase to the front door and checked the time himself to see when they were coming. Another five minutes until they were supposed to be there.

"You're supposed to be an English major," he reminded her with a tsk of his tongue.

She quickly threw her hair up into a ponytail before answering. "I'm an English major so I can teach Immigrants how to speak properly so it's easier to get a job and communicate to people. What I'm majoring in actually benefits people, contrast to you."

He laughed and pulled her into a hug. "That was cold, Hart."

He could feel her shrug and she breathed in his scent, taking in what she can get before she left. Riley and Farkle wouldn't be there for another few minutes, so taking in Lucas' presence (even though they aren't dating!) is perfectly normal.

Her arms were wrapped around his torso and his head was burrowed in her neck before they had heard a familiar grunt coming from behind them. Their senses came back to them and they pulled away quickly before greeting their friends. They eventually made it out the door and to the airport before the three finally gave Maya their goodbyes.

Lucas pulled her in for a final hug before promising he's going to miss her (he will) and that he won't stop thinking about her while she's gone (that's true) and don't you _dare_ not think about him.

Then, she's quickly engulfed into the sea of people scurrying around to get to their flight, and he can already tell that he's yearning for her.

 ** _x_ enodochial; adj  
** _friendly to strangers_

Riley definitely noticed something. They both think she doesn't notice, in fact, they don't even know it themselves. How could they? Even Maya's own best friend could barely notice anything. (If Riley were to tell Lucas anything about her suspicions, he would tell her (because he thinks he's the master of Psychology) that she's just being paranoid but she _promises_ she's not. Not about this.)

It's not Maya's change of attitude, per se, but there are things (definitely him) that contribute to that fact. Sure, she's happier, but she's _not_ dating Lucas. That much she knows, and she wishes they were. She _knows_ that they aren't dating. It's a known fact because Maya would first _ask_ Riley to make sure she's okay with it (because it's Lucas, for godsakes, the guy she liked for _ever_ ) and then she would _tell_ her that she's dating him, it's just the truth.

So, no, Maya is not dating Lucas.

But they do seem rather comfy with each other. There are indicating factors of course, Riley has actually picked up on quite a few things from Lucas' Psychology lessons (SOFT SCIENCE!, Maya would claim) and she was rather good, in perspective.

One; he's rubbing off on her.

There is no way in hell he can change her into a soft, loving person. No one can do that, even if they tried their hardest. Even if Maya had accepted their courtesy. It's what's written in her blood. She's the rude and crude mean girl, it's her _personality_. He didn't change her, he rubbed off on her.

She (accidentally) pushed a kid down in the halls who had this _burning_ cup of coffee, and she _apologized_. Which is surprising. Her actually being kind? Sure, for her friends. She'd walk through hell and back for her friends; not normally for random acquaintances.

Two; they balance each other out.

He had threatened to punch out a kids molars (again, goddammit Lucas), so she went into action. She had this very fine skill that no other person in their friend group seemed to have, which was calming him down. The muscly big jock had a sweet spot, aw! (Everyone knew that it was Maya, even her... She denied it. Whatever.) Riley was just observing on the sidelines, making random mental notes of everything she was looking at and happened to noticed that Maya was literally _jumping_ on Mr. Perfect's back.

There was another time where she was sloppily drunk and was spouting out random junk. She would have said something she probably regretted, but since Lucas decided to conveniently not drink, he took her home and somehow got her sobered up.

Three; xenodochial.

Big _big_ indicator.

Even though Maya will never change, not for the world, he somehow got her to be nicer. Not big things, she still told out people that made fun of her friends and slapped people across the face from time to time, but she had managed to be nice to strangers. Caring, in fact. (Gave away most of her free money to charities for run away abuse survivors, her being one herself.)

Yes, Riley noticed something

 _ **w**_ **ild; adj  
** _uncontrolled or unrestrained, especially in pursuit of pleasure_

Her smile is wide and aspirations are big. She pulls him into some weird hooker 24 hour club, and suddenly he's drawn into the plethora of horny teenagers and awkward conversations; something he's all too familiar with.

She has a knack for getting rather drunk rather quickly (it's called being a light weight but she _refuses_ to be called that...) and it's quite concerning, but she _promises_ that she'll be finefine _fine_.

They're only a few hours in (why didn't she invite Riley?!) and he's standing alone and awkward off to the side, watching everyone have fun. He asked her earlier about not inviting Riley and her only response was, "You need to loosen up."

He supposed she was right.

She somehow gulped down another shot, seemingly being completely unfazed with a cool expression. However, he knows her. Inside, she is most likely jumping up and down. She's a little more than tipsy and he's a little more in love.

People seem to be familiar with her in the 24 hour hooker bar. They call her "crazy lady", or something along those lines. He can see how she got that nickname. Even though she can get tipsy quickly, she can also hold down a little too much of alcohol.

She's wild, he thinks.

She somehow seems to get that he's uncomfortable and beckons him to the dance floor. She _promises_ that it will be so much fun, nothing like _last_ time (they don't talk about it) and that he won't regret it.

The two somehow got alcohol into his system (how are they going to get home... yeesh) and soon enough his body is against hers and he's got this raging boner (he thinks, he can't really seem to think coherent thoughts) from her _grinding_ her ass up against his sensitive area... shit, he thinks.

It's his breath that is breathing down her shoulder and she shivers in delight... god, going to far, is his next thought.

And he's probably right.

He's a little more sober than her, somehow, so he finally gets her off the floor and they decide to walk home. Not in their current condition could they even think about driving. They'll just pick up the car later.

She's so drunk; she's so wild.

Just how he likes her.

 _ **v**_ **ulnerable; adj  
** _susceptible to physical or emotional attack or harm_

He doesn't really think much of it. Not really, at least. He's not that good at noticing things—not like her, not like Riley. So, it was rather much of a surprise when he started to notice the little things. He always did, of course; the way she smiles, the crease under her brow when she's confused—things like that. Things more under the category of tired eyes and sad faces.

He thinks he should have noticed earlier. He's taking a Psychology course, for godsakes (soft science, she would say) so it should have been easy to spot. He's not that perceptive, he thinks.

It starts at lunch one day. They normally go to the college food court together with the other two (Riley happened not to make it) for lunch. She had simply _refused_ to go. He, of course, thought it was odd but he had just decided to sit with Farkle and Zay while she sorted out whatever was bothering her.

The next big indicator was the lack of soberness. Sure, she liked to get drunk. Every weekend, in fact. She went with him most of the time, really. So when she came back to her dorm with glazed eyes and confused words, he was concerned. She never goes out during a school week, it's not like her.

Maybe it was just a party (stupid stupid Lucas Friar).

Lastly, she had started to miss class and canceled on when they were supposed to be hanging out. Sure, she was Maya Hart—the girl who never took anything seriously. But the Maya Hart that hated school and never tried at anything was given up in the ninth grade. She knew she would get nowhere in life if she didn't try, so she she did just that—try. (Sure, she's canceled their plans to go on dates with other men, she always gave explanations, but not as of late.)

He's worried, and one night, he goes to her dorm (Darby isn't there for some reason) where boys aren't allowed. The soft knock doesn't wake her up, considering the fact that she's already up. She crept to up to the eye hole and saw that Lucas was there.

She invites him in, and they have a lengthy conversation on how she _isn't_ acting different before they finally get to the point where she opens up to him.

Her breaths are shallow and scarce and he thinks that she's having a panic attack (she might be) and he doesn't know what to do so he places his arm around her shoulders and draws aimless shapes on her silky smooth skin to sooth her. He knows she doesn't like opening up to people, she thinks it makes her vulnerable.

He gets most of what she says. Her words are sparse and random, not making much sense unless you're paying attention closely. She explains to him that something happened with her boyfriend. Nothing too big, she promises. Just a couple of punches were thrown around.

And, god, he suddenly notices the peeking bruise coming from under her makeup. She _tries_ to explain to him that Jeffery Connors is a good kid, he was just _angry_ , but all of her words are lost in the sobs. Her body is wracked up in tears, and soon her tears are filling up Lucas' shirt. She's says she used to it.

He soothes her, _promises_ her that she's not vulnerable. That's she's not weak. You're strong, he says.

She promises that she _will_ break up with Jeffery Connors the next day, but she makes him sleep with her in her dorm room (strictly prohibited, whatever) so she won't feel scared.

She never sees Jeffery Connors again. He's kicked off the campus ground for some anonymous reason (thank you Lucas Friar) and his contact is completely erased from her phone. It's like he never existed.

 ** _u_ ndecennial; adj  
** _occurring or observed every eleventh year_

It's an undeccenial carnival, she states. Something that only comes once every eleven years, so they _better_ go now. She's only been once in her whole youth. Sometime during her childhood, and she _promises_ that the experience will most _definitely_ be worth it.

He agrees to come, which he ultimately regrets the moment he gets there. He swore his motion sickness left him when he was a child, but apparently he was wrong. On top of that, the ground seemed to be a magnet for moldy corn dogs and vomit.

He wouldn't tell her that, though. She was enjoying herself and he wouldn't take that away from her.

Riley went with her when they were in her youth, and she _absolutely_ hated it—so she refused to go; he could see why. Riley also had a knack for getting rather motion sick, much like himself; much worse, however.

The first ride they went on was called "Cannibal" which is just as bad as the name suggests. His crippling anxiety came in when they first got on the ride, but Maya had _promised_ that it wasn't that bad. He didn't know what constituted to be bad (or merely _awful_ ) on her scales, but it definitely exceeded his scales.

She felt a little bad for him after their third round on the ride "Wicked", so she approved of his constant request for a _break_. They had decided to get some delicious corn dogs (as seen on the ground, previously; these seemed to be in much better state) and to sit down.

He had nearly _begged_ for the two to go on a simple ride, one that didn't involve much motion. She had agreed, actually feeling _bad_ for the poor Cowboy that had crippling motion sickness (why hadn't he told her, Jesus...).

They finally made their way to the front of the Ferris Wheel line before Lucas realized he's absolutely afraid of falling and dying off of Ferris Wheels. Just Ferris Wheels, nothing else. He hated the movies where the Ferris Wheel turned into a gigantic wheel and rolled around the state.

It's not that bad, Maya cooed. Come on, stop being a pansy, Maya beckoned. Well, shit, Lucas thought, I can't really get past that argument. So he did.

And, god forbid, the Ferris Wheel had happened to malfunction while they were on the very _top_ , and out of all people?! Wouldn't God like to torture another soul, instead of his (nearly) innocent and clear soul (he had repented...).

Maya was attempting to keep in her giggles in response to Lucas' face when he realized they were stuck on the top.

After a few minutes of laughter, she finally had collected herself and sat next to him in attempt to calm him down. She had placed her hand on his back and held his hand, a completely normal and platonic thing to do. As a friend, of course.

He was so distracted by the mere _thought_ of Maya holding his hand and touching him, that he had completely lost all of his peripheral vision and utter awareness that he hadn't realized their cart finally touched the ground.

"See," Maya would then say, "it wasn't so bad."

She hopped off the cart and ran to the bathroom to drain some of her fluids that were being held up from her Gigantic Coke she drank earlier.

And then a thought ran across his brain:

Well, shit.

(And he knows he's in love.)

 ** _t_ ranquility; n  
** _the quality or state of being tranquil; calm_

She's got a reason to be tired, he thinks. Perfectly acceptable in this case, after a long day of testing and finals (which he has tomorrow, dear lord...) there is no reason why she _shouldn't_ be tired, however, there is a reason why she _shouldn't_ be insisting to sleep in his bed. Her claim and reasoning is that the boy's dorms beds are so much more comfy than the girl's dorms beds and she really _really_ needs the sleep. (He doesn't tell her that he has finals tomorrow, but whatever.)

After a quick banter between the two, he had finally agreed that _sure_ , she can sleep in his bed. Her claiming in the beds being more comfortable wasn't true at all, the beds felt the exact same from his personal experience (nothing _too_ scandalous, god only knows, he had to sleep at Maya's a couple of times for some weird reasons... he doesn't remember much) so there isn't any reason why she shouldn't be sleeping in her own bed.

He knows the reason why, deep deep down. And so does she. They just don't want to admit it.

She makes him tuck her in, claiming that his tucking in powers have some sorting of soothing agent that helps her go to sleep. Which is completely illogical, in this case, but he lets her babble on about conspiracy theories and whatever will please her.

And, somehow, he ends up in bed with her. She whined about how she couldn't go to bed unless he knew that he was on a comfortable bed (Zay was out of town for some weird Museum tour thing and Zay made Lucas _promise_ not to sleep on his bed) because (somehow) she had found out that he had finals but he doesn't ask.

And in five minutes flat, she's out like a light. She's got a cute little snore; something that isn't audible unless it's completely dead silent. Almost like a baby pig, he thinks. He wouldn't tell her that, though. She would slap him with a knife.

He can't go to sleep for some reason, so he stays up watching her. Taking in the contours of her face, breathing in her scent because he doesn't think he'll ever get the opportunity again.

She's in a state of total calm and tranquility, he thinks. He's been over to her dorm when she's had nightmares, being there to help sooth her nerves. He had never seen her sleep like that, likely due to the strenuous hours she put into studying and the stress of the finals to make her sleep so deep.

Eventually, he falls asleep.

And the two wake up to their limbs tangled together and their breaths breathing in the same air.

 ** _s_ upernatural; adj  
** _(of a manifestation or event) attributed to some force beyond scientific understanding or the laws of nature_

He really doesn't understand how a person can be so beautiful and perfect and all around wonderful. He thinks of it as supernatural, really. The sheer likeness of her is overall overwhelming, and he doesn't know if she's the one for him.

She's got a quick mind and a fast tongue; everything his Mama wouldn't approve of.

Except when he thinks about it like that, he knows that she's the one for him.

He notices it one day, the undying love that fills his system to where he can barely comprehend simple sentences because he doesn't get how he can love one _girl_ so much but here he is, loving her like he hasn't loved anyone before. It's as if all of his love was saved up for her and now it's suddenly being released into a whirl of emotions and he almost _cries_ for some reason, but they're not even dating.

Shit. Whatever.

The thought dawns onto him when the two are at Topanga's. She's painting a picture of a little boy she saw at the market earlier that day and he's just _sitting_ there doing nothing—except for the fact that he's literally just staring at her.

She doesn't notice.

Her hair is up in a loose fitted bun while she's wearing a pair of sweat pants and a paint covered T shirt. She's got a long paint trail going from her temple down to her cheek bone. Her eyes are wide in anticipation for what she's painting and her mouth is slightly open.

And he thinks he could kiss her.

He finds her so _goddamn_ alluring, and she needs to _stop_ if she doesn't want him to pursue a relationship of the two. Which he won't, he knows she doesn't want him to. In the best interest of the two, he should find a nice little lady and pursue a serious relationship of them instead of _pining_ over someone he can't have.

She's done with the painting, and he's _impressed_. By the far one of the best things she had painted so far. It was a nearly accurate portrait of the little boy she saw at the market.

She whines about how she's cold but he doesn't have a jacket so he gives her his shirt (the bakery is closed, dear lord) but she still claims that she's cold and he can't do anything but give her his pants which he is _not_ going to do because the area of shivers only seems to be her arms unless she wants to put his pant legs on her arms... awkward.

Her body is lied out on the couch in which he joins, spreading out his body on top of hers in attempt to keep her warm.

She makes an inaudible laugh as he starts to complain how he's cold (he's not really) so she throws her arms around his torso. He's sort of nearly crushing her with his body, but she doesn't care much. With his naked torso on top of her covered one with his shirt, she thinks that it couldn't get better.

The two are perfectly platonic and normal _friends_ , which is all they'll ever be.

Farkle nearly faints when he walks in the bakery thinking he's seeing something he's not.

And she's oh so enticing and he's oh so turned on.

Dear God, he thinks.

He's already too far in.

 _ **r**_ **isk-taking; n  
** _the act or fact of doing something that involves danger or risk in order to achieve a goal_ **  
**

Not only did they get arrested, but they also didn't have enough money to bail out. They _absolutely_ wouldn't call Riley, who would give them a forty minute _I told you so!_ speech which they weren't mentally prepared for, and they didn't think they would ever be.

Lucas Friar wasn't really the adventurous type, not since he got to New York. So when she had _insisted_ that he—for fucking once—do something rebellious, he had agreed. Do something that involves the act of risk-taking. Something that isn't Lucas Friarish.

God, he agreed because he's in love with her. But he wouldn't tell her that.

It was stupid. Really stupid. Something so stupid the punishment shouldn't have even constituted in jail. She was just warming him up for the _big_ stuff before they got arrested _already_ while they were _egging_ someone's house.

Just their luck.

She had brought quite a few eggs and Lucas Friar was eccentric, excited. He had given up his rebellious days back in Texas, so when Maya Hart had threatened to expose him to the ideals of rebellion, it was too good of an offer to say no. He nearly missed the idea of being a delinquent; something he wouldn't go back to, of course. Just the act of being a rebel was exhilarating, he thinks. It's nice to not follow the rules once in awhile.

He had no idea who's house they were at, some ex-boyfriend of Riley's or something of the other. Riley had _begged_ for them not to go, saying it was _none_ of their business to go egg a man that broke her heart, which justified Maya's reasoning to egg him even more.

Riley knew that there was no way she would get to Maya, so her best idea of defense was not to go with them—and if they get caught, so be it. It'll be their own faults, anyway. And when they call for bail (Lucas promised there would be no need for bail because they would _not_ get caught, what a bunch of loaded shit) she would be giving them a lecture about how stupid they were.

It was only after the third egg they got caught. They couldn't even have a full experience of egging someone's house before they were taken into custody.

"This," Lucas said, straining against his cuffs that pushed against his skin, "is why I don't like risk-taking. We literally were just put into jail."

Out of all the times she had been egging, she just _had_ to get caught with Lucas when she was attempting to break him in. Well, fuck, was her first thought.

"I suppose we'll just call Riley," he muttered.

Maya quickly argued that Riley would just say _I told you so_ and she was not prepared for another one of her lectures. And he shouldn't be either. They'll pay the time and get it over with.

The time was a week in the county jail, during finals week. Lucas Friar hated his life.

"Fine, fine, I'll call up Zay so you won't miss your Psychology final."

Maya had almost felt bad for Lucas but then she remembered that getting arrested was a _primary_ ingredient into turning into a bad ass rebel, which Lucas declined to be called. Ah, whatever. Let him be called what he wants, but he still needs to learn how to do a little pranking from time to time.

When Zay came, the two were exchanging giggles and her head was lied out on his shoulder.

Should he keep them be?

That'd be _rude_. But _still_ , Lucas is getting the _stuff_.

Zay was two hours late for some reason, but Lucas and Maya never seemed to find out.

And, shit, Riley found out anyway.

 _ **q**_ **uiddity; n  
** _the inherent nature or essence of someone or something_

She's so _sick_ , sick to the point he should probably be taking her to a medical hospital. So sick he has the decency to call her mom to come and see her. Which he doesn't do either, because Maya _insists_ that she's finefine _fine_ and that there is no need for melodramatics. Her temperature is 106, so _no_ , he's not overreacting.

She states that he is.

Hell...

He's never really seen her like this. So vulnerable and meek and small. Sure, he's seen her cry into his shoulders about a break up and cry about her absentee father, but she's not even _crying_ ; she's just doing.

She's tired and snappy and makes him do everything to her _bidding_ because she's sick.. Which he claims if she was that sick (which she is) that she would need to go the hospital but for some reason she's absolutely terrified of hospitals so he doesn't push.

And he thinks this is the first time he's seen her for purely who she is; not just a brokenhearted girl from New York who's got a dream to change the world with her art. She's just Maya Hart, and he thinks he's falling deeper in love with her and he doesn't even know _how_.

It's her quiddity, is his first thought.

He takes her to the hospital anyway, against her orders because he knows that he's in the right this time, and he's spewing out old jokes he told her in the seventh grade and she's _laughing_. For once about his old crappy jokes, and she lets it spill that she does think he's funny but then she threatens him if he tells anyone what she had just said...

She's singing to an old Christmas Carol and it's almost _summer_ so he doesn't understand, but he sings along with her to keep her content. Her thoughts are wild and crazy and she's actually allowing herself to open up. It's a rare opportunity, he thinks. He knows that she's aware of what she's doing, merely using the excuse of being sick to excuse her actions.

She talks about her dad to him. And he thinks he's honored. She's brought up the subject quite a few times, but the conversation would then be shot down as quickly as it was brought up. She babbles on in depth how her father used to be a good man but he left her and she _doesn't_ know why and she tries so hard for him and she doesn't _get it_. Her conversation goes in how he used to abuse her, something she never talks about. Not even to Riley.

He doesn't speak for the whole car ride, just lets her babble on to conversation to conversation about college and how she's doing (and he knows everything because they go to the _same_ college) and how her boyfriend (ew...) is out of town probably doing something she disapproves of and she states how that moment right then and there would probably be the only moment in her life how she didn't feel pressured and how she opened up.

She also thanks him for sparing his dream college to go with her. The two don't talk about that much. Lucas had been accepted into Columbia (along with Riley and Farkle) while Maya was left in the dirt to go to NYU. It was a good college, sure, but not Columbia. She wouldn't make her friends give up the college they had been looking forward to their whole lives just to accompany her at NYU. She would never forgive herself.

Lucas was different. There wasn't a choice for him, it was either black or white. Either go to college with Maya or don't go at all. Columbia and NYU were close enough, so there wouldn't really be anything long distance (not that they're dating or anything!) but it was as clear as crystal to him. Maya needed someone she knew at her college, and Farkle and Riley needed each other. Riley would have given up her spot in Columbia to accompany Maya, but she wouldn't let her. She also wouldn't let Lucas but he refused to let her go.

And, lucky thing too he decided to go with her. Who else would drive her to an ice cream parlor at three in the morning or drive her to a hospital because she's too busy to even take care of herself? Probably not herself, at least.

 ** _p_ acificate;** **v**  
 _to give peace to_

Her heart is swollen and numb and he doesn't think he's ever seen her like this. In a state of total anger and sadness that she can barely even mumble out coherent words and he can't do anything but _comfort_.

Gammy Hart died.

And he really wouldn't know what it feels like to lose a loved one. His grandparents all died before he was at the age of one, so he's not really experienced in the field of comforting people over their lost loved ones. And he really wants to comfort Maya, he just doesn't know _how_.

It was a small ceremony, not many people were invited. Just the essentials: Katy Hart, Riley's whole family, himself, Farkle, Zay, herself, and Shawn Hunter. That was just about it. And a few friends Gammy Hart had known in her earlier years, but that concluded the whole congregation.

Maya was yelling a string of profanities and cursing the Lord. She asked him _why_ , out of all people he decided to take away, it had to be her Grandma? The one who comforted her when her Mom was gone on long work days or when her father abused her or when he left their family. Why the one person who made her a better?

She was in a long black silky dress that showed the despair she was feeling. Her hair was in a messy bun that framed her face and the mascara stains down her cheeks left marks as if she were dead, herself.

She cries into his shoulder about Gammy, cursing various people (including himself), and swearing at the world. She hates God, she hates him, she hates herself. She doesn't understand _why_ , and she doesn't think she'll ever be able to forgive God for something like this, if she even believed in a God.

Riley successfully comforts her. No one is really out of it besides her, no one really loved Gammy Hart like she did. Her breaths are shallow and rapid and he almost thinks she would combust under all that pressure she was holding in and she's suddenly letting everything out. Everything she had managed to bottle up inside of her (except for that one night when she talked about her abusive boyfriend to him) for the entirety of her life was spilling out like a tsunami.

Gammy Hart dying was her breaking point.

Something inside of him clicks and he sits next to her while Riley's off to the bathroom and places his arms around her, beckoning for her to put her head on his shoulder. His only words are this: _tell me_.

And she knows what he's talking about even if he doesn't even know, and everything that has ever bothered her comes out and she can barely even speak but the sobs are coming out and she's so mad at the fucking _universe_ her mind can't even comprehend the fact that the most attractive guy in her university was holding her in his arms and _soothing_ her like there was no tomorrow.

And he says something she really needed to hear. "She's at peace, you know? Gammy Hart, I mean," his soothing voice rings through her ears as she finally gains some self control with her emotions. Her breaths are starting to become even and she almost feels tired from her big sob fest. "And, I bet that if there is a God and if there are angels, she's up there—looking down at you and promising that you can move on."

"I'm an Atheist," was her response.

"Gammy Hart loves you, and nothing is going to change that."

Something she really needed to hear. She's glad she's got Lucas.

And Farkle smiles knowingly.

 _ **o**_ **blivious; adj**  
 _not aware of or not concerned about what is happening around one_

First things first, Farkle Minkus is an idiot. Well, he thinks so anyway. Because anyone with the right of mind would be _able_ to notice the chemistry and attraction radiating off of Lucas and Maya, but him being the idiot he was, he didn't notice.

He's oblivious, was more like it. He knows that Riley sure as hell noticed the attraction between the two. It's who Riley is, the observant one. And so is Maya, of course. Besides her own oblivion towards Lucas being in love with her, but he didn't notice either, so he shouldn't really be talking.

Not so smart, he thinks.

The first big indicator was when three out of the four got accepted into Columbia with those fancy academic scholarships. Farkle was excited, he had also gotten accepted into various other universities but ultimately decided to stay local. Riley was accepting the scholarship too, before she even realized that Maya didn't get accepted into Columbia.

Maya had _insisted_ that the three use their scholarships and she's local so they'll be able to talk and hang out! NYU wasn't that far away from Columbia, anyway. Just six miles, that's all.

Lucas refused to let her go alone, which should have been a big _clue_ but Farkle's stupid and oblivious, so he didn't really notice.

And god, Farkle being the oblivious idiot he was didn't even seem to notice the second indicator.

It was winter in the middle of their first college year. The two had spent a lot of time together, more than they had ever before. It was more just the two of them rather than the five of them (consisting of Riley, Farkle, Lucas, Maya, and Zay) even though Zay also went to NYU. So when she had forgotten her gloves when the five went to the park, he scolded her and told her that he _reminded_ her to bring gloves.

So, in attempt of keeping her small hands from getting frostbite, he laced his fingers with hers. The idea and process was ultimately a success. Riley was starting to notice something, of course; being the observant little person she was, but Farkle was so _so_ stupid.

The third indicator was like an explosion, but Farkle merely refused to notice. Ah, god. The two were much more comfortable around each other than they had ever been before, due to the fact that they were around each other all the time. She spent just as much time with Lucas as she did with Riley, most likely more.

Which, of course, was saying something.

And he nearly spent all of his time with her.

It was winter, once again, and Lucas claimed to be cold. Probably just a scam to get her attention, would be Farkle's first thought if he had realized that he was in love with her earlier. Which he didn't. She responded in enveloping him in a hug, her arms squeezing around his torso. Her short height put her under his chin.

The two seemed to like that position and stayed in it in the entirety of the time they spent at the park. When they walked home, Lucas offered to walk her to her dorm (which was quite a lengthy walk back to his dorm); his arms were draped around her shoulders and the two were giggling at something that Farkle didn't seem to understand. Sure, he knew that Zay and Riley were involved with each other, but he didn't even process the idea of Maya and Lucas being together. Which they weren't, of course. But they hadn't officially addressed their relationship, and if anything, he was her boyfriend.

But he wasn't really.

The fourth clue was a no brainer to even the simple minded _first_ graders, and Farkle Minkus didn't understand how he didn't see it before. They were at Topanga's, just Lucas and Maya. She was working on some art project in the middle of the night and she needed Lucas to be there. (That was her reasoning, at least.)

So when he had walked in on Lucas' shirtless body splayed out on top her covered one (with his shirt!), he thought nothing of it. Except that maybe they were having sex (which they weren't!) but the thought quickly dismissed his mind as he thought the two were _clearly_ platonic and normal friends.

The fifth clue wasn't even that big, really. It was like after everything, after all the big things, he finally noticed the smallest thing and he suddenly _understood_.

Her arms were wrapped tightly around his torso as he attempted to sooth her down at the funeral of Gammy Hart. Her body was shaking in sobs and he's whispering soothing words into her hair. And, somehow, she calms down enough to release herself from their hug and look up at him with a pained smile. He smiles down at her like she's the manifestation of perfection and suddenly Farkle Minkus actually _gets_ it.

The only person who's just as oblivious as him is Maya Hart.

 _ **n**_ **irvana; n  
** _a state of perfect happiness; an ideal or idyllic place_ **  
**

She accidentally bought two tickets to go to an art show, where she was supposed to buy one. And, was her reasoning, it's _the_ art show. The one where you meet with people and introduce yourself—and maybe, just _maybe_ you'll get recognized and you could be on your way to fame. So, she said. We have to go. She was getting featured. He was going to go anyway, if he had known earlier.

So when she handed him the blue ticket that had one of Van Gogh's paintings on it, he _had_ to accept. If it's what made her happy, it's what made him happy.

When the two came into the show, her eyes lit up with a kind of fierce that he had never seen in her before. She started naming off random local artists that got their art featured in there and she was oh so _excited_ about how there was going to be this world renowned critic that she _might_ be able to talk to and she _might_ get recognized.

Shit, she was excited.

Her feet managed to wander over to her art piece. It looked random and uncertain, but if you knew Maya personally (or you knew art like the back of your hand), you knew there was a story behind it. Mostly, her pieces were happy and upbeat. Something in contrast to her feelings, she had stated once. Something to bring the mood up.

This one was quite different. It was covered in glass shards from a broken beer bottle with a purple background. In the back was a young girl praying on her bed.

And, at first glance, you knew she was talking about her abusive father.

Despite her dreary art piece, she was upbeat and happy. And he was glad. He had never seen her like that. In a state of total content and happiness. She must be at home, he thinks.

Nirvana.

He could tell whom the critic was apart from everyone else. She blended in just fine, but her tight skirt and pinned up hair gave her away and he could suddenly see Maya getting nervous. Before he left her be (because she had requested it when the critic came up to her piece) he gave her a soft touch on the back, which nearly calmed her nerves.

He was off observing other pieces when his attention gained back towards Maya. Her hands were clasped together tightly behind her back and she was explaining the origin and tenderness of her piece.

Her eyes lit up as the critic muttered a few words to her and left off to the other pieces in the show.

The two wandered among other art pieces. When he didn't understand something that was being represented in other art pieces, she explained it to him. How provocative it is and the reason of painting the piece. There was always a reason why someone painted something; like how she had painted her piece. If you knew art, you knew what her past was like. It's a way of expressing your feelings bottled up inside of you, was her reasoning. Like screaming into a pillow.

And, god, when he saw her light up every time she saw something she liked, he knew that loving her was just the beginning.

* * *

 **i'm only posting half of this because it's way way long and i asked a few people on tumblr if i should do so and they said i should because i'd be leaving you guys on a cliff hanger (not really) and it'd be easier to read.**

 **thanks for reading! i'm working on the second part but please fave and review! that'd encourage me to write more lmao**

 **PS; i KNOW this goes from past tense to present tense so much and I'M SORRY**


	2. M-A

**the reason Y this is over six months late is because i had really bad writers block and the past few weeks i started this shit up again and pushed my ass thru it amd I FINANLYL DFLIFINSIH IT im so happy. some things to note before you read: i wrote the first two letters and then stopped for around four months and then i wrote a few more and then i pushed through the second half of this these past few weeks. that means my writing style has changed a whole lot in these past few months so you might see some of an awkward transition. Okay!**

* * *

 ** _m_ esmerizing; v  
** _hold the attention of (someone) to the exclusion of all else or so as to transfix them_ **  
**

Her concentration is set forth in yet another assignment given to her by the college art teacher. She says, and promises!, that there will be no distractions this time to prevent her from finishing said assignment, like _last_ time. They don't talk about last time. Well, at least she doesn't. He tries to bring up the conversation but she refuses to believe she failed an art assignment because of his utter stupidity... (not talking about it!)

They're in her dorm room. The dorm room filled with colored streaks and carpet stains; something that Darby absolutely hated and that's the one thing she could not _stand_ about Maya Hart—the lack of cleanliness. Which is why Darby had decided to crash at Sarah's for a couple of days, so she could get the stench of paint out of her system that Maya Hart had seemingly gotten used to.

Lucas was also having headaches, but hey. She seemed to enjoy his company and so he intended to keep her happy. Eventually he would have to get used to the wafts of chemicals pumping through his system, just like she had.

He likes looking at her. It's one of his hobbies; one of his skills, per se. He's come to look at her so much, to memorize her features, that he could almost paint a perfect portrait of her. If he could paint, of course. Her face is plastered into his mind and she just won't _budge_ , like always. She's stubborn in reality and she's stubborn in fantasy.

He can nearly read her like an open book, almost better than Riley can. There are two main contributing factors: he's near her all the time, and his Psychology class. Which isn't really that good of a class, but he thinks he's pretty good at reading people. Maya says it's extremely absurd and stupid, but whatever.

She's got some weird music playing, some rock junk that she's into. Her head is bouncing to the heavy beat and her mouth is quietly singing along to the emotional words. Must be that band Twilight he saw with her that one time. Or it could be someone else, he didn't really know; all punk rock bands sounded the same to him.

It's nearly one AM in the morning, and she _would_ tell him to go to bed while she finishes up her piece, but she just can't seem to bring herself to do it. She enjoys his company, no matter if she doesn't even say it. It's the truth, and that's how it would always be. Maya and Lucas, Lucas and Maya.

She can sometimes tell when he's looking at her; when her back is turned, she just _knows_ that he's looking at her. She either has a sixth sense or she can tell because of Riley's funny looks and that _knowing_ smile she always seems to have when she knows something's up. Or just wild speculation, on her part.

She's done with her art piece, and the two are _oh_ so tired but she doesn't want to go to bed even though his protests are filling up her head like a balloon. It's so late, he would say. Only one AM, was her response. Besides, she doesn't have early morning class and she can stay up however late she _wishes_ , no concern for what _he_ thinks.

They're talking about something when he notices a paint streak down her nose. He reaches to wipe it off—albeit unsuccessfully—and falls face first into the pile of paints located near her bed. He asks _why_ there is a pile of random paints and then he asks the universe _why_ it hates him.

She stands to help him up but trips over his leg and, too, lands face first in the pile of paints already splattered out on the ground. Her giggles fill the room as she feels a little bit drowsy from lack of sleep. "You got a little paint on your face, darling," is what he says after she accompanies him in the paint mess located by her bed.

Darby is gonna _freak_.

The two go into a fit of laughs and giggles, and Lucas can't help but look over at her. Her hair is matted with hues of blue and yellow and her face is covered in oranges and pinks, and she's so _mesmerizing_. He's not used to this feeling, the feeling of overwhelming love that nearly shakes his body apart.

He joins her in her harmonious giggle fits, and he knows—just _knows_ —that she's the love of his life.

 ** _l_ ife of the party; n  
** _a lively, amusing person who is the center of attention at a social gathering_ **  
**

The words _college party_ ring through his ears like an enigma, and he's temporarily hating Maya Hart for dragging him to some godforsaken beach house thirty miles away from their campus. She had _promised_ that going to a college party was most definitely worthwhile, no matter what he thinks. He needs to get out! Have some fun! Well excuse _me_ , he would protest, the last time we had _fun_ together (cue the air quotations around the word fun) we got thrown in jail!

It's only a college party, though. Only.

Designated driver he is, like always. Maya had invited Riley and Farkle and Zay, so it wasn't just the two. Of course Lucas was appointed the designated driver, he _always_ was because he didn't prefer being drunk off his ass, unlike some _other_ people (and now he's looking at Maya).

Despite being a heavy weight, Zay was well into the party scene and already drunk off his feet the first half hour in. He wouldn't be seeing Zay or Riley the rest of the night, they had successfully found a room to themselves— _ew_ —and it was going to be quite a night for the two. Farkle was currently trying to get over his break up with Smackle, so he would be somewhere off making out with some girl.

And, yet again, it was just the two. Maya, being the attractive single woman she is, always attracted attention. Her being a light weight made her easily drunk and early in the party, her shirt would already be off and she would be dancing on the table to some overplayed pop song that had been stuck in the DJ's head for some weeks.

The life of the party, per se.

The bottle in her hand is soon empty as she takes yet _another_ swig, thus dropping the bottle on the floor and watching it roll. Everyone gives the girl a shout and a holler as she grabs the half empty bottle from the bartender and chugs it down in one sitting, wiping her mouth and giving the now empty bottle back to the poor boy hiding behind the counter with a smile. "On the house?" she asks with a sultry smile. The bartender only nods blankly in response.

Soon enough she's back on the dance floor, putting up her perfectly curled hair and dancing to the beat like she hasn't got a care in the world. "C'mon, Huckleberry!" he thinks he hears her say. "Join the fun!"

He ignores her pleas.

And, you know, he really really loves her. A whole lot.

 _ **k**_ **nowledge; n  
** _facts, information, and skills acquired by a person through experience or education; the theoretical or practical understanding of a subject_ **  
**

He can see right through her. She has a façade up, she has a reputation and, hell, she fears for it being ruined. But he knows better. He's always known better.

Throughout the entirety of her high school career, she had acted dumb—stupid, even, to please her peers. It was something she had always done, to please others around her. A natural reflex to when people around her didn't please herself. However, he always knew better. From the moment he saw her, he knew that she was more than just a sack of flesh and bones with a passion for punk rock and a deep disdain for school.

She was smart.

It comes no surprise to him when she gets her shit together in the ninth grade—however, not even then did she show her true potential. It comes no surprise to him when she gets accepted into NYU on an art scholarship, along with her academics. It comes no surprise to him when she accepts a summer abroad immediately after high school, because she's _just_ that talented at what she does and he's amazed... He really is. It comes no surprise to him when she chooses to major in English, along with her arts.

However, it does come a surprise when they're sitting down on her bed, she's eating a pencil, studying for their college Math finals for Sophomore year (she's never been really good at Math, he thinks) and she corrects his mistake (stupid mistake) without even looking up from her booklet.

"Mmm?" he asks her, looking up to see her.

She shrugs turning the page booklet. "Nothing, really, it's just that problem thirty is wrong. It's just that," she ponders, looking at his page for a moment, "in the equation negative B plus or minus the square root of B squared minus four AC divided by two A, you forgot to make the B negative in the beginning of the equation—so five X right there," she points at his equation, "and then you plug the five into the equation, getting rid of the X so instead of what you had, the equation should look like negative five plus or minus the square root of five squared minus four times two times negative nine over two times two. Or simply, negative five plus or minus the square root of ninety seven all of this divided by four." She scoots close to his body so she can indicate what she was talking about. Their breaths become one and he turns his head to looks at her, her face is flushed and hot but she continues to speak anyway after a brief moment of silence. "Anyway," she mutters, shaking her head.

He looks over the equation once more, and he finds out that she's right. "Yeah, you're right," he notes, scribbling it down in his practice booklet. "I just didn't think..." he trails off, looking for the right words.

"You can say it," she laughs, not even looking up from her booklet. "You didn't think I was good at Math. It was an honest mistake, Lucas. An eighth grader could have spotted it."

"You said my name."

She finally releases her gaze from her booklet and looks up to look at him. Their bodies are flushed together, their shoulders touching; they were an _inch_ , only an inch away from kissing. She speaks to break the silence. "I read. I paid attention in school."

And with that, she turns back around to flip the next page.

And he knows.

"I've always known your name," she mutters without looking up from her booklet. He remembers what she said back then in the eighth grade and then he smiles, turning the page along with her.

 ** _j_ ealous; adj  
** _feeling or showing suspicion of someone's unfaithfulness in a relationship_

They like to play a game together, they think, in which it consists of getting either one the most pissed off or the most jealous. Neither one of them know that they're even really playing, but they both know they get something out of it - may it be good or bad, they do. And one has to end in heartbreak, one ends in triumph.

The game starts in high school, and leads all the way to college without either one of them knowing. She sometimes, perhaps accidentally, forgets that her best friend was supposed to be sleeping over at her dorm that night (her best friend being _him_ ) when she's brought her date home. And she sees him, clad in his pink underwear, watching The Simpsons on TV as she comes in with her date.

Suffice to say, the date doesn't take it well that the most attractive guy in the campus, probably the state, was sitting in her room with only his underwear on and eating a bucket of popcorn with a goofy grin. And almost immediately, the date leaves and she's stuck with _him_ (it isn't so bad, she thinks). So she throws stuff at him because she's pissed because he ruined her date ( _I ruined your date? the guy was a deadbeat anyway!_ ) and then they get in a fight.

He refuses to leave because he still wants to watch his show (that's not really the reason why, he thinks) ( _and are you ever going to fucking leave?!_ ) ( _n_ _o! because your date so rudely interrupted my show!_ ). But she watches the show anyway and ends up falling asleep on top of him. They don't tend to talk about their fights, it's just automatically assumed that they're forgiven unless they really fuck up.

He tries to make her jealous by attempting to cancel their plans, but she tags along anyway with her date (whom she had to ask for forgiveness ( _Maya, if you have to ask for forgiveness then he isn't worth it!) (it's your fault anyway, you stupid Huckleberry_ ) for). He really just ends up jealous as he watches how handsy he is with her.

One time it ended with a black eye, not for him anyway. (The date was giving him the stinky eye, anyway. He knew that him and Maya had a relationship that he could never achieve.)

But now that they think about it, it only ever ends in heartbreak, really.

Suffice to say, they're both extremely oblivious and enjoy making the other one pissed off. Like always.

 _ **i**_ **ntimate; adj  
** _closely acquainted; familiar, close. private and personal_

He's always touching her, she thinks. Because somehow, someway, his hands find a place on her hips whenever they're squished next to each other, or somehow in someway, his fingers are always combing aimlessly through her hair with no further intention. He's probably unaware of his actions, the act of being close to her was just normal by now.

Riley the observant notices a lot of things, and she starts to notice when they get closer - not emotionally, more physically. Sure, they were always touchy-feely as friends, they always had their bodies mashed up next to each other no matter the situation, Riley noted that this was a more likely occurrence on the couch for some reason even though the couch could stretch for miles with open room. Riley knew that it was just what their relationship was.

She liked to grab his butt randomly sometimes, just like she did to most everyone else. He liked to pick her up by the armpits or crouch down and throw her over her shoulder in a fireman's carry just to annoy her, that's what their relationship was.

But Riley the observant notices when things start to change. It's not so much touching each other to piss the other one off, or touching each other out of habit, but more of a _need_ to feel one another, to be near one another. She notices these things at the beginning of her Sophomore year of college. He's always got his hand on her best friend's back, she thinks. More of a need to always be near each other.

Their hands start to intertwine at some point, she can't pinpoint an exact moment when it started to happen but it most certainly did. She notices this at one point when she's walking behind with Zay and Farkle, talking to them about something that happened in her class. She doesn't really remember the conversation, her mind being set on the pair in front of her. Their hands intertwined, her head lying on his shoulder as her body shook in laughter at something he had said.

She brings up the subject of the matter to Maya, heavily suggesting that her and Lucas were probably, most likely, definitely more than friends. Maya laughed off her insinuation and giggled at her best friend.

So Riley the observant shoves her observations down to the base of her stomach where they will never be disturbed. But that doesn't prohibit the action of her not noticing things, Riley the observant notices everything. She notices the way his eyes flicker every time he sees her best friend walk into the room, he notices the way his hands lie restlessly atop her stomach as she lies her head on his thigh. She notices the way his fingers bring out a joyous laugh in her as he tickles her until she's begging mercy.

She notices the way her best friend is always touching him in some way or the other.

Yes, Riley the observant is observant. And the two are far past intimate.

 _ **h**_ **ot-blooded** **; adj  
** _lustful; passionate_

They've got built up sexual tension, several years in the making and it comes to no surprise to anyone when they finally act on it. Not that they would know, of course.

It happens because of a fight, of course. She doesn't really remember what for, but she does clearly remember the fact that he was being a pain and she most definitely needed to embarrass him in front of the public eye. She remembers Riley telling them that they should take their fight outside and she remembers Lucas standing up and barging out of the restaurant.

She remembers their bickering in the car and Zay begging for them to _please shut the hell up_! And then she remembers Zay running up to his dorm as Farkle dropped them off at their campus and Lucas angrily following Maya behind her as she stomped to her room. (Oh, of course, she distinctly remembered him calling her fat.)

"Okay, I did _not_ call you fat!" he clarified for the umpteenth time in an hour. "You took my words the wrong way, why don't you listen to me?"

She turned around on her heel and glared up at him sharply, her eyebrows bunched up in an angry matter and her arms crossed above her chest, pushing up her breasts slightly so that her cleavage was nearly falling out. The tiny red dress was doing him wonders, and he most certainly wished they were in her dorm attending to other activities instead of screaming at each other like a divorced couple.

"I heard what you said," she said with a haughty stare, removing one of her arms from her chest and using her index finger to point at him. "You told me to stop eating so much junk food, which obviously means you think I'm _fat_!" In which he wants to repeatedly bang his head on a door frame and groan as his more than friend took everything the wrong way.

"Even if you were fat, which you aren't!, doesn't mean that's a bad thing! Besides, that's not what I was saying. I was saying you need to limit your junk food and caffeine so you can stay healthy and not have those bags under your eyes!"

"Oh," she said with a drawl and shook her head, "so now you're saying I'm ugly?"

"Okay, what is going through your head?" he asked her, and before he had even time to process his movements, he took one swift step forward so that her back was plastered against her dorm room door and his body flushed against hers, her head tilted upright so she could see him and all of his height. "Why are you so damn difficult?" he grumbled.

And just then did he realize that she was biting the inside of her cheek and breathing heavily. And just then did he notice the shiver of pleasure race down his spine with the thought of ripping off that dress she had on, which left way too much to the imagination.

She breathed out a shaky breath and shook her head, clearly limiting herself. "Okay, you're right Lucas. Sorry for being wrong, I should go to bed now."

But he stops her hand before it can reach the knob behind her. And he asks her one question. "Do you want this?" and she can hear the lust filling his voice and his dark gaze and her panties are wet and she wants wants wants this more than anything.

And she replies with one word: "Yes."

The rest gets a little fuzzy.

 ** _g_ oosebumps; n  
** _a prickly feeling related to having bumps on one's skin due to fear, excitement, or cold_

She can't pinpoint the moment she starts to recognize what she's feeling (lust—that is) but she knows what is. And far more than that, she starts to think. Because every time he touches the small of her back or her thigh or even the jut of her hips, she can feel those goosebumps and they start to prickle up slowly near her spine and she gets what it is. And she shivers

Because she is so fucking in love.

She thinks she's stupid for realizing this under him completely and totally naked in her dorm room where Darby is MIA. She thinks she's stupid for denying her stupid feelings for him (and they've got to be a lie, she had to tell herself over and over and over again until she felt better, and she never did) and she thinks she's stupidstupidstupid because nothing ever goes well for Maya Hart.

But all she can feel are these stupid goosebumps all over her skin and his heavy breathing and she's so _stupid_ because she would have never fallen in love with him if she had half of her brain. Because she knows what it's like being in love, she remembers her Mama telling her in the dead of night as she clutches her pillow listening to her scary stories of possibly the scariest thing in the world. (And Maya doesn't want to be in love.) Because her Mama tells her that being in love is probably the worst thing in the world.

They tell you they love you and then they slam the door in your face, leaving you in a pile of messy unpaid bills and clutching your wrist as you _cry_ because being in love is the shittiest, worst feeling in the world. ( _And when will I know if I'm in love, Mama? I wanna know how to avoid it, Mama. I wanna know when to back out_.)

And, oh sweetie, you won't ever really know. All you'll know is that one day, you'll see one person one day and you'll know that it's them and it's been all this _time_ but baby, don't give up on love just because your Mama had some rough times in that department.

She wishes and she wishes and she wisheswishes _wishes_ that she gave up on love fifteen years ago in the apartment room with her Mama, listening to her weeping words. She wished she had given up on love as she met his stupid ass on a subway and she wished she had given up on love as he held her hand and made her cry and she wished that after her moms words that she could have stopped. But everything was wrong in the small dorm room of her campus hallway because things were fucked up. Things were fucked up, and she didn't hate it (and she totally wished she did).

Because her dad left her mom fifteen years ago and everything went to hell because life sucked, life totally and royally sucked for Maya Hart and she hated it. And Lucas was just another thing to add to the baggage of more things she fucked up. A never ending list, that is. And he was probably at the top.

So, why was she still here? Writhing under her once best friend in pleasure and her little red dress off somewhere scattered on the floor and why did her life suck? Because she didn't like change and change is all that happened around in Mayaville. And change was the destruction of everything that she had ever held close.

And so they're lying next to each other and they're breathing hard and she can still feel the goosebumps trail her skin lightly and she wants to fucking _scream_ in the dead of night next to someone who she loves in more than one way and everything is so fucking confusing. But he doesn't say anything, and there's nothing to say, so he grabs her hand once and squeezes it twice and sighs thrice and she realizes that they're both equally fucked up people lying in the middle of her dorm room with no idea what to do next.

So they hold hands, and they think.

She doesn't like change. She doesn't and she doesn't and she doesn't.

 _ **f**_ **ight** **; n  
** _an argument or quarrel; dispute_

Things change in their relationship. They're the bickering type, for sure. They're always at each other's neck and always thriving off the attention the other gives them and it's utterly and absolutely insane how their relationship works, but no one really understands it anyway. (Farkle's argument and thesis being that they're stupidly in love and they're also stupidly oblivious, but he digresses.)

And since it's like them to fight over petty things, no one really thinks much of it when they're _actually_ arguing over something serious. And no one really pays attention until they see the tears start to prickle out of the blonde's eyes and until they see his face fall slack and until she's barging out the door and yelling at him not to follow her because she can't deal with anymore of his bullshit.

And the conversation went as so:

"You're _dating_ someone?" Lucas would bellow, and at this point, he would stand up to confront her. Plus, with his height, he had an intimidating advantage to her, but she was never really intimidated by him in the first place. So she stands up too, flushing her body against his and staring up at him menacingly, crossing her arms in front of her breast, her heavy coat concealing her cleavage.

"Yeah, and what's your point?" she counters back quickly, her eyebrows raised in a challenging matter as if to threaten him. His hands are clenched to the side in balls and all he really wants to do is punch a wall because he's so fucking _angry_ for some damn reason and they aren't even dating (but they fucked and that has to mean something).

His breaths are heavy and she thinks she can hear his heartbeat, but that could be her own. "Are you _seriously_ going to 'what's your point' me? You really think of me that low and you really think I'm _that_ shallow to let that slide past me?" he asks her, his voice dangerously deep and he knows he's thinking about certain things that he could be doing to her (sexually wise) and this was not the perfect situation to be granted doing so.

"Exactly what I'm saying," she punctuates loudly. No one really pays attention to them, anyway. It's just an everyday occurrence to see Lucas and Maya wanting to murder each other, and it's likely that they'll make up in the next hour and be the touchy-feely people without even dating type of deal. Common knowledge, really. "Why do you care?" she finishes off with a lick of her lips.

His eyebrows would raise in disbelief at this point because he can't actually _believe_ the words coming from her mouth. Something happened between them the other night, something that felt _good_ and she hasn't bothered to bring it up in conversation. She's been snippy and aggressive and loud lately and now she's acting like it never fucking happened! "You know why I care!"

"Then tell me why you care," she said lowly, her eyes shooting daggers at his face and if looks could kill, he'd be ten feet below ground.

"Because..." he trails off, thinking about what to say. "Something happened the other night..." and he doesn't know if he can finish. Because there's something off about the situation they're in and something's not right, not that it would ever be.

She rolled her eyes. "What happened, Lucas?" and she's forcing the answer out of him. She knows _exactly_ what happened, she knows because she replays it in her mind over and over again until it gives her a migraine and she _knows_ what happened. She's not so sure she wants to know, but she knows.

He closes his eyes and breathes out slowly. He doesn't know what to say to her, because _yes_ , they had sex. But something more happened, something else. "I..." and he doesn't answer.

She shakes her head softly, closing her eyes and backing away from him slowly. "I see," she mutters through her mouth, chuckling lowly. "I get it, Lucas. I do. Because you're so disgusted with the idea of me that you can't even bring yourself to say what happened between us," she stated with a click of her tongue. "I get it now."

His eyes opened widely and he began to speak to her, promising and reassuring her that that wasn't the case but ghosts took the place of his words and he didn't know _why_ he couldn't speak. He knew that that wasn't the case, that he wouldn't be lying to her because he wasn't disgusted. He loved her more than he had ever loved anybody else in the world, he was so enamored with her that it left him speechless.

She left him speechless with the idea of that even being _true_ (and it wasn't).

Her body shivers from the cold, only slightly and she shakes her head, and she thinks she feels the trickle of tears near the edge of her eye because she thinks she understands it now. (And why is her life so royally fucked and why is she so royally wrong about everything?)

So she backs away and she runs out of Topanga's, because she never deserved this much pain. She may be a Hart and the universe may hate her and fuck her over and over again but she never deserved this. And he's about to follow her until he hears her voice, muffled and soft but he still hears her.

"Don't you dare fucking follow me," she says, out the door. "I can't deal with this bullshit anymore, Lucas."

And suddenly heads are turned to him where he's standing in the middle of Topanga's, everyone's face curious because they're wondering how he fucked up so bad to the point where his best friend won't talk to him anymore. He's fucked. (And he's messed up, he's really messed up because the girl he thinks he loves just left him alone in the middle of a cafe and wanting to scream.)

They've both got problems.

 _ **e**_ **vanescent; adj  
** _soon passing out of sight, memory, or existence; quickly fading or disappearing_

It was always them, together, that is. It was always Lucas and Maya and Maya and Lucas and it always _them_ together, glued at the hip and always, always together. That's how it had been at the start of college and that's how it had been since when they remember, it's always been them. (And they can't really see it being any other way.)

Because when she sees his face she remembers the time he always held her hand and she remembers the times he tickled her back when she was crying and she remembers the times when she fell asleep on top of him and he didn't complain and she remembers everything good about him and she's so fucked up. Because if she even dared peek in her future, all she would be able to see would be him and only ever be (because he's her best friend and she's stupid, so stupid sometimes).

She tries avoiding him one time, you know. Back in their sophomore year of college when she was certain (certainly thought, at least) that him and her needed space. From what, exactly? That was still left unanswered to the fact she didn't _know_ why she needed space, all she knew was that she was feeling things she shouldn't be feeling for her best friend that was a boy and she needed time and space to figure herself out (at least that's what she told herself). And trust her, she really really tried to avoid him.

But there was always the problem: he was in half of her classes. And there was always an open seat next to her in her math class near the wall and no one dared fill it up (because no one dared filling up Lucas Friar's seat unless you had a death wish, or unless you were Maya Hart) and he always sat there. Not only was he in all of her classes, that was the easy part. He also was her alarm clock and he was always there in the morning to wake her up with a cup of black coffee and he was always there at the end of the day with only his pink underwear and watching a show with popcorn stuffed in his face.

He was _always_ there, whether she liked it or not.

He didn't ask her why she was avoiding him that time, because he doesn't really think she was avoiding him, anyway. Things went back to normal for them in a span of week, but this time it was different. He knew that something had changed and that something was up and _this_ time he knew that she was avoiding him and this time she made an effort (and this time he didn't make an effort).

Because in math class she sits in the back now next to Back of The Class Brenda and Lucas knows that Maya hates her, but makes the sacrifice anyway as she trudges her way to the back of the class to avoid _him_. And this time, she wakes up early to do her hair and her makeup and she's out the door before he can even wake up to think about getting her coffee. (And he plays a part too, you know. He doesn't come home to her anymore in the dead of night with his pink underwear and a remote anymore. She comes home to an empty dorm room with curious Darby and missing Lucas, so she's not alone in the avoiding part.)

(But she sure did start it.)

So she brushes her teeth and combs her hair and lies in her bed for a moment or two before Darby is shooting out questions like a cannonball and Maya really wants to stuff her mouth with a sock but she just turns the other way and tries to go to sleep. (Because she never thought that Lucas was going to be evanescent like all the other masculine figures in her life.)

(And she never thought that Lucas would leave her like everyone else did, and she hated being wrong.)

So she wakes up in the morning and not feeling his warm presence next to her with a cup of coffee and she sighs, because everything is super fucked up.

 _ **d**_ **elicate; adj  
** _easily broken or damaged; fragile_

There was this thing about her: she wasn't delicate, she wasn't fragile. She was damaged and she was broken and she was fucked up but things never hurt her, really. She wasn't some poor little girl living in a penthouse and crying when her broken nail goes down the drain, she wasn't like that because she never ever really _grew_ up like that.

Riley was like that, she was more fragile and she took things more emotionally and more to heart than the average person would. Granted, Riley grew up on different terms than Maya did, which gave them their such opposite personalities. Riley was optimistic and took things slow, careful, her best friend was a pessimist and took things fast, reckless. And it took a lot to make Maya cry, it took a whole lot.

Farkle had only seen her cry twice, once when she fell off her skateboard and once when she confronted her father. Riley had seen her cry four times, once when fell off her skateboard, once when she confronted her father, once when she talked to Shawn once upon a time, and once when she was yelling at Lucas in the middle of Topanga's. Lucas had seen her cry twice, once when she confronted her father, and once when he had made her cry in the middle of Topanga's. Zay had seen her cry zero times.

And so it was common knowledge that she wasn't delicate and she wasn't fragile, but she was something that you had to handle with care. She had one too many cracks in her thick heart and if you dropped her she would explode.

"Lucas and I broke up," she tells Riley one time, lying on her best friends comforter with a ball fiddling in her hand.

Riley turns away from her book curiously and gives her blonde friend a bunch of her eyebrows, because she was _certain_ with what her best friend had told her that her and Lucas were certainly, never to be dating. "I thought you said you and Lucas weren't dating," she states with an eyebrow raised.

Maya had to roll her eyes and turned her head to look at her best friend and she frowned. "Not like that," she reassures, shaking her head. "I mean, we were never like that. We broke up... like friendship-wise, you know what I mean?"

The thing that Riley was certain about was that Lucas and Maya were always going to remain the best of friends (besides herself and the blonde) no matter what happened, Riley was absolutely _certain_ of that fact. So there was a good amount of surprise and the brunette had dropped her book on the floor, meeting her eyes. "What do you mean? What happened?"

Maya shrugged and pulled her body up so she was sitting upright to face her best friend. "We... did... something..." she trailed off uselessly, biting her lip and thinking of the words to say without getting Riley completely disgusted. "You know what I'm saying, right?" she asked her friend. "Something your mom and your dad saved for after marriage?"

And then her best friend finally understood what she was insinuating and her mouth hung open, nearly catching flies. " _You_?" she gasped loudly. "And _Lucas_? Had _sex_?"

You never really know how delicate someone is until you've made the cracks into their skin yourself, and you never really know how delicate someone is until you're the one holding their body as they cry to you about how they fucked up and how he fucked up and how everything in the world is so fucked up (because, she says, the universe hates me and I'll hate it right back).

(The official count of the amount of times Riley has seen her best friend cry is now five.)

 _ **c**_ **hemistry; n  
** _the complex emotional or psychological interaction between two people_

Riley thinks that when she's older that she'll be telling her grandchildren and the grandchildren of her grandchildren (if she lasts that long, but she has no doubts) the greatest love story of all time. And it's easy to assume that she's talking about her parents, everyone knows the story—the one about Cory and Topanga and how they were each other's true love or some other romanticized bullshit. No, that wasn't the story she was going to tell her great great grandchildren, she was going to tell them the story of Lucas and Maya.

And how they were the two stupidest people in the whole fucking world.

Because she gets where they're coming from, she really does, because the change is far too great than Maya would like—and she's always been one that hates change. But they're both two too stupid people that are stupidly in love and stupidly oblivious (and honestly, Riley cannot stress the word stupid enough).

And things change, you know, for the better. Because Riley was certain that she was at the peek of her adolescence at the mere age of thirteen years old and Riley was certain that she had this whole life thing down. She had it planned out, she was going to meet her true love just like her parents had, she was going to fall deeply in love and he was going to do the same, she was going to get married (as were Maya) and she was going to have thirty children and whatever you will, Riley had a _plan_. Granted, when you're thirteen, things don't always pan out the way you suppose it will, and much to her surprise, it didn't.

Because it wasn't hers and Lucas' story anymore, it was Maya's and Lucas'. (And the mere thought of Maya and Lucas having more chemistry than her poor old self would plummet Riley deep into despair at the age of fourteen and at the age of fifteen she would see everything more clear and at the age of sixteen—but this is Maya and Lucas now.)

Because this was supposed to be the story she would her grandchildren's grandchildren, the story of how these two, stupid idiots fell in love. (And there was quite the obstacle in her story, these two stupid idiots also managed to be not talking to each other.)

She even distinctly remembers talking to Maya about how she was going to tell her children the greatest love story of all time, and it didn't have to be hers. It just had to be one too great for the books and one too great to write down, but she had to tell the story.

So, whatever, Riley thinks she's got it down when she shoves Maya into the janitors closet of some restaurant where all five of them are eating (because she started an intervention because they're not on speaking terms) and does the same to Lucas and suddenly it's just those two and Riley's gone but the door is locked and it's only those two.

(But he tells her he loves her after a minute or two of being locked in the dreaded closet with her, because he thinks he knows what he's talking about and she thinks he's being pressured inside of the tiny closet that could give anybody claustrophobia.)

(And, you know, she tells him to _shut up shut up shut up because you have no idea what you're talking about_ and he tells her he does, because he thinks he does, at least. Well, he knows he does. And he tells her this once and again and again until she finally tells him to shut up for the thousandth time in the span of three minutes because he has no idea what he's talking about.)

"You know, I'm in love with you in the way that I want to marry you. You know that, right?"

"Shut up."

"Okay."

(She says it back only once because she thinks he only needs to hear it once because he's such an insufferable little asshole and she really wants to slap his head with a book because he's got that shit eating grin again and he's really getting on her nerves and—I missed you.)

"I missed you too."

And he's such an insufferable little asshole.

 _ **b**_ **oyfriend; n  
** _a regular male companion with whom one has a romantic or sexual relationship_

It slips off her tongue one time, an absent thought that she doesn't even process, really. She talks to him one time (and they're not really official, she says she doesn't like labels) about something or the other, and it falls off the tip of her tongue and it feels oh so _right_. "Well, you're my _boyfriend_."

And his eyebrows raise a few centimeters and that shit eating grin she's gotten so used to appears and she wants to bang her head repeatedly on a desk because she may not like labels, but he does and he loveloveloves her and he really wants to be with her— _all_ of the time and all of the day and he loves her.

So his eyebrows quirk slightly and he's got a breathy tone. "Did you just call me your boyfriend?" he asks her because he can see that annoyed look on her face, the look she has right before she wants to murder someone, and he loves it and he loves her and he loves being her boyfriend, frankly.

"You're my—guy friend," she has to correct herself because she is not going to let him get under her skin that quick and she wants to slap (kiss) that grin off of his face, and god, he is so fucking _obnoxious_. She really loves him, and she really hates herself.

(Because, you know, her _boyfriend_ is the one that tickles her back at three in the morning, but whatever.)

So, you know, naturally, he calls her his girlfriend (and she doesn't like labels) and she calls him stupid because the word just so happened to _slip_ off her tongue and he really needs to get that smile off of his face and she's going to ignore him now.

But she sees herself using it more and more than she thought she would, because she tells Riley something one time and the word falls out and Riley thinks nothing of it but her head is spinning and her heart is racing and she hates herself but she loves him. (She told him she loved him before she ever called him her boyfriend.)

"Your boyfriend, Lucas," and she wants to correct Farkle but he's not really wrong there because he is her friend, he is a boy, and she is romantically involved with him in one way or another and they are far more than fuck buddies (even though they've only fucked twice) and so there's really no other label to put there except boyfriendboyfriend _boyfriend_ and she loves him more than anything, so he's her boyfriend. But there's the problem, you see, because he's so much more to her than a silly little boyfriend.

And so, instead of using the terms boyfriend and girlfriend, they accidentally, perhaps intentionally, start using petnames for each other. Sometimes, not exactly civil (oh, hey fuckass) and not exactly sweet (I hate you, boobturd) and whatever. But she prefers calling him baby than ever calling him her boyfriend because he's much too important for that.

He likes to call her baby and princess and he likes to hold her hand and he likes to touch her skin and he likes it when she smiles big and bright and he likes to kiss her cheek and he likes hug her close and he likes the way she smells and he likes it when she touches his face and he loves her and he loves her and he loves her and he loves her.

"Hey princess, you're really cute and I'm really in love with you."

"Hey babygirl, I love you a lot."

"Hey darling, you smell super nice and I love your face a lot and I love you a whole lot more."

"Hey angel, I love you a lot. Like a super lot. Like a big amount, like I love you, like I really really really really really love you."

So she says one time, "Hey baby, you're super annoying and I hate you most of the time I'm around but I love you."

 _ **a**_ **che; v  
** _feel an intense desire for_ **  
**

And, you know, they're super in love with each other.

* * *

 **the ending was weak i know but i just wanted to finish this shitfest. alirhgtlksjk IM so happy i finished this now i can move on thank GOD.**

 **anyway REVIEW AND FAVE AND FOLLOW nad whatever thanks bye**


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